


And I hope it never ends

by cherryvanilla



Series: Sweetheart in the Summer [1]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Banter, Fluff and Smut, Insecurity, London, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romance, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: The dance floor is packed, a song he couldn’t begin to name pulsing over the speakers. Jesse moves through the crowd again, and accidentally bumps into someone taller who’s heading the way he came.“Sorry.” Suddenly looking up and into those big eyes again.“Hello!” the ridiculously attractive guy from the bar says.Jesse blinks. “Hi, hello.” His voice is too loud and this place is terrible.“Um.” The guy looks around, for what Jesse doesn’t know. “Would you care to dance?”There is nothing Jesse would like to do less. But the guy has this adorable, hopeful look on his face and Jesse finds himself nodding jerkily.(A very,verylooseWeekend AU.)
Relationships: Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield
Series: Sweetheart in the Summer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088534
Comments: 21
Kudos: 28





	And I hope it never ends

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic: 
> 
> Main fic mix, mostly featuring songs that were popular in 2008, plus two from Andrew and Jesse’s favorite bands, respectively, can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/16tMxknkP92oobuTa7G6at?si=JLH1Is9FSPuV4pyVuczlfg). 
> 
> (More mixes at the end, but they're spoilery) 
> 
> I swear I had no intention of including a Say Anything… reference this time, until I read AGarfield talk about how he’s serenaded people but it wasn’t as good as the Say Anything… scene. 
> 
> There are a lot of other things taken from interviews that are thrown in here and there (including Andrew's cat allergy). I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it <3

**_London, August 2008_ **

Jesse hates clubs. He hates bars; any place that requires people to shout just to be heard. He’s also been told this is the only way he’ll ever meet someone, so he lets Justin drag him to G-A-Y, which is such an utter cliché. 

“It’s my last night here, I’m allowed to be unoriginal. Plus, you need to get laid.” 

Jesse rolls his eyes as they wait on the absurdly long outside while it begins to drizzle. Because clichés are the theme of the night, apparently. 

“You are way more preoccupied with my love life than I am.” 

Justin claps him on the shoulder. “That, my friend, is precisely the problem.” 

“There is no problem.” Jesse looks up at the building, considering. “I suppose I could use this for research.” 

Jesse has been living in London for three years, since he graduated college. In that time he has written two plays, is working on a third, and is in the processing of getting the first one produced at a tiny West End theater. His day time job is as a copy editor at a publishing house, which he got through an internship he’d taken during his study abroad program in the summer of his Junior year. 

He fell in love with London and decided that, despite his equal love for New York, it was time for a change. Well, no, he stressed and worried and had many conversations with this therapist and his mom, but ultimately he decided it was for the best. 

Jesse has had one relationship since moving to London, which had lasted six months. He hasn’t had sex in almost two years and while it’s an act he enjoys he doesn’t actively think about it all that often, unlike most people, apparently. 

“Research,” Justin repeats. “God, Jesse, give the writing a rest for a bit, would you? I’m about to fend off tons of guys just for you.” 

“Your modesty is truly astounding.” 

They finally get inside. Justin had Jesse wear the tightest pair of jeans he owns, which he never puts on anymore for that exact reason, and a white t-shirt that hugs in all the wrong places if you ask Jesse. If he had product in his hair he’d look like a straight out of the 50s greaser. The place is loud and full of haze and strobe lights. 

“Let’s get drinks!” 

“Woo-hoo.” 

“What?!” 

Jesse rolls his eyes and twirls his finger in the air sarcastically. 

“Whatever! Come on.” 

They work their way through the crowd; Jesse silently wills the floor to swallow him up. At least writing a scene where the main character goes out on the town will be easier now. Jesse has friends in London, don’t get him wrong. Mainly work friends but they’re all very much like him in the fact that they prefer book clubs and theater rather than night clubs. 

A few minutes later Jesse is pressed between the end of the bar and the wall, taking a swig from his beer and trying not to gape at the two men who are practically fucking against the wall to his left. 

Justin catches the direction of his gaze and grins. “See anyone you like?” he shouts, leaning in close. 

“You sound like a pimp. And no, I’ve barely looked at anyone.” 

Jesse avoids eye contact in general if he can help it. Which doesn’t make it easy when he’s trying to assess if someone he randomly meets might be interested in him. Even his mother has casually mentioned how much “online dating” has grown in popularity; Jesse had to immediately call his therapist. 

In that moment he does look up and out across the other side of the bar, just to prove he can. He doesn’t expect to lock eyes with someone who apparently was already staring at him. The bartender passes in front of Jesse, momentarily blocking his view, and then their eyes meet again and hold. The guy smiles, this big, bright thing in the darkness of the club. It feels out of place, particularly because he’s directing it at Jesse. 

The guy looks close to his age and has ridiculous brown hair, kind eyes, and is wearing a plaid button down. Jesse bites his lip, his pulse fluttering. A hand on his neck makes him jump. 

“Seems like you’re looking now,” Justin says smugly against his ear, hand slipping to his shoulder and squeezing. 

Jesse notices the guy’s smile falter and something akin to disappointment cross his face. He raises his beer at Jesse, sheepishly, before ducking his head and not looking back up. 

Jesse shrugs Justin off and shakes his head, returning back to reality. A guy like that -- a guy like that could have anyone here. 

“I gotta piss,” Jesse announces. He somehow makes his way through the crowd to the bathroom and splashes water on his face. Places like are designed to ramp up his anxiety, his heart beating too fast, his hands clammy. 

He exits after taking a few deep breaths. The dance floor is packed, a song he couldn’t begin to name pulsing over the speakers. Jesse moves through the crowd again, and accidentally bumps into someone taller who’s heading the way he came. 

“Sorry.” Suddenly he’s looking up and into those big eyes again. 

“Hello!” the ridiculously attractive guy from the bar says. 

Jesse blinks. “Hi, hello.” His voice is too loud and this place is terrible. 

“Um.” The guy looks around, for what Jesse doesn’t know. “Would you care to dance?” 

There is nothing Jesse would like to do less. The song has switched to a British woman singing about an American Boy; yet another cliché. But the guy has this adorable, hopeful look on his face and Jesse finds himself nodding jerkily. They shift over a bit, and the guy’s hands drop to Jesse’s waist as they start to move. 

Jesse has no idea what to do with his own hands so they remain at his sides. 

“I’m a terrible dancer, as you can probably tell,” he yells in the guy’s ear, hoping he didn’t damage his ear drum. 

“You’re American!” he replies. He sounds delighted, so Jesse assumes it was a non-sequitur and not an attempt to rationalize Jesse’s horrible coordination. 

“Yes, very apropos.” 

“Huh?!” 

“The song.” He bites his lip.

“Oh!” And then the guy pulls back and tilts his head back in a full-bodied laugh. Jesse’s mouth goes dry. 

“I’m Andrew,” he breathes, leaning in close to Jesse’s ear once more. 

“Jesse.” 

He raises his arms tentatively to Andrew’s shoulders, hands resting on Andrew’s upper back. Andrew’s fingers tighten on his hips. 

“Are you… um, was that your boyfriend? At the bar?” 

Jesse has no idea who he’s talking about, and then he remembers Justin. He laughs. “No, god no. No, that was my best friend.” 

“Oh.” It’s crazy how Jesse can hear the happiness and relief in that one syllable, even over the persistent beats. 

Andrew shifts a little closer, their chests bumping but their hips still not touching. 

Jesse inhales and closes his eyes, tries to just go with the flow, whatever that even means in a gay club when you can’t dance. 

The song shifts into something slower, romantic. Jesse’s automatically reminded of Friday night at the skating rink while in High School, when they’d announce the ‘Couples Skate’ and Jesse would sit off to the side. 

Except now, Andrew is pulling him even closer and asking, “Is this okay?” before resting his head on Jesse’s shoulder. 

It’s awkward; Andrew is a few inches taller, the angle is off, but Jesse finds he doesn’t mind, says, “yes,” his lips brushing Andrew’s hair. 

He finds himself relaxing, barely needing to move to the beat as Andrew sways in his arms. 

Things like this don’t happen to him. He’s sure he’ll wake up from a very realistic dream any second, but this song ends too and Andrew pulls back to smile at him. Then he’s ducking in quick and kissing Jesse’s cheek. His own cheeks are flushed when he pulls back. 

“You’re lovely.” 

This guy definitely has issues if he’s saying shit like that. “I, um, I should go find my friend.” 

“Oh.” Andrew’s face visibly falls, and he nods, dragging a hand through his hair. “Right. Sorry. I’ll let you go.” He begins to turn around. 

Jesse catches his wrist, heart racing. “I kind of hate it here. Would you, uh, like to escape with me for coffee or something?” 

Andrew’s eyes widened. “Yeah, yes, brilliant. Let me just tell my mates.” 

Jesse nods. “Meet out front?” 

Andrew smiles so big it must hurt, while Jesse wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.  
______________________

“Man what’d you do, drown in there?” 

“No, um. I was dancing.” 

Justin stares at him. “Dancing. You were… oh, I would’ve loved to see that.” 

Jesse rolls his eyes. “I’m leaving.” 

“Hey, no, don’t…”

“I’m leaving with, um. Someone.” 

Justin’s eyes go comically large. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with Jesse?” 

“What? No -- we’re not. I just want to talk to him somewhere I can actually hear myself think.” 

Justin laughs. “Alright, well, use protection and give me a hug since I’m leaving tomorrow.” 

Jesse does, blushing at the first part. 

He finds Andrew already outside, leaning up against the building smoking. He throws the cigarette on the ground when he sees Jesse, putting it out with his foot. “Hi, sorry, rubbish habit I know.” 

Jesse shrugs. “Your lungs have been with you your whole life. We only just met.” 

Andrew blinks at him before letting out one of those big laughs again. “You’re delightful, Jesse…” he trails off on an obvious prompt. 

“Eisenberg.” 

“Eisenberg,” he repeats. “Andrew Garfield.” 

He holds out his hand and it feels backwards, seeing as they’ve danced all up on each other and Jesse knows what Andrew’s lips feel like against his cheek. Jesse shakes his hands anyway. 

“Are you here on holiday?” 

“No, I live here.” 

Andrew smiles at him. “So tell me your story, Jesse Eisenberg.” 

“I was born a poor Jewish boy of Polish and Russian descent,” Jesse begins, straight-faced until Andrew laughs. “Alright fine, we were middle class.” 

Andrew laughs again. They find a nearby cafe that’s still open and Jesse keeps talking. Normally he hates being the one doing all the conversing at first, but he feels oddly comfortable around Andrew. Jesse tells him about being born in Queens and moving to Jersey when he was young. He talks about going to college in the City and how he came to be in London. 

Andrew, in turn, relays that he was born in California but has lived in Surrey the majority of his life. “I work in a Starbucks which I thought would be more romantic comedy and such, but it’s mainly a lot of rude, impatient people.” 

“I worked at a Blockbuster in high school. It was awful, I don’t really watch movies and people would keep asking me for recommendations.” 

Andrew laughs. “That’s brilliant. What did you do for staff’s choice?” 

“I’d put up a copy of a book that had been adapted into a movie.” 

Andrew laughs again, eyes crinkling. “You rebel you.” He knocks his foot against Jesse’s beneath the table, and that innocuous point of contact makes him shiver. 

Jesse swallows as their eyes meet. There’s a shift in the air, an electric moment that he normally only writes about rather than experiences. He takes a hasty sip of his coffee. Andrew coughs, running his fingers through his hair and messing it up. 

“I uh, I’m sorry I didn’t meet you before tonight,” Andrew says quietly. 

Jesse realizes Andrew is probably the type of person who just spews out earnest statements like that all the time. 

“Well, um, we met now, so.” 

But Andrew’s shaking his head, suddenly looking miserable. “I’m moving in two days,” he laughs, sharp. “America, funnily enough.” 

Jesse feels a wave of sadness pass over him that shouldn’t really be possible for someone he only just met. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Where in the U.S.?” 

“California. Los Angeles. My aunt still lives there and my mate Rob just got an acting gig and already headed out there. Figure it’s time I try my luck too. We’re both moving in with another friend.” 

“You’re an actor?” 

Andrew takes another drink from his cup. “A bit. I’ve done some theater.” 

Jesse’s mouth drops open. “You, I. I write plays. When I’m not editing mediocre novels.” 

“That’s. Wow. Tell me everything!” 

So Jesse does once again, and then they’re trading theater tales: Andrew about his A-level performance, Jesse about his playwriting workshops at NYU. Andrew about starring in Beautiful Thing, Jesse about the recent interest in the first play he ever wrote. 

Andrew just turned twenty-five; Jesse mentions that he’ll be 25 in October. 

“I feel incredibly old, though. I don’t think I’ve ever felt my age. 

Andrew laughs. “That’s funny. I’ve always felt younger.” 

They keep talking and pretty soon they’re getting kicked out of the shop as it’s past closing. It’s late enough that the trains have stopped so it’s either the bus or a cab. Jesse doesn’t really want the night to end but he’s unsure how to say that. He thinks again about Andrew leaving in two days. 

“Do you, um. It’s a bit of an expensive trip back to Surrey without the train, and.” 

Andrew’s lips part. “I was going to stay with my friend Carey here in town.”

Jesse’s cheeks feel hot. 

“But, I’d uh. I’d love to see your flat and keep talking.” 

Jesse nods. Talking. Right. He licks his lips and Andrew’s eyes track the motion. “Bus?” 

“Yeah.” 

They sit on the top, in the back. It isn’t crowded. Andrew’s hand brushes his in the space between them and then, after a pause, he places it over Jesse’s, fingers slipping between his own. 

Jesse inhales and glances at Andrew, who’s looking steadily straight ahead. He smiles and turns his hand over, clasping their palms together. 

They exit the bus with their hands still locked, dislodging only so Jesse can open the door to his apartment. 

Once inside, Jesse flips on the lights and glances around for the cats before turning to Andrew, who is toeing off his sneakers. 

Jesse does the same; it’s not something he really did back home but he adapted to it the few times he’s had company over and they stared in horror at his feet. 

“I…” Jesse runs a hand through his hair and stares at Andrew, who is now leaning against Jesse’s front door like some wet, shoeless dream. “I never do this.” 

Andrew frowns. “Are you, erm, straight?” 

“What? No, I mean, uh. This. Hooking up, going to clubs, the whole thing. I haven’t… dated in a while.” 

“Ah. We don’t have to--” 

Jesse, emboldened, presses his fingers to Andrew’s lips. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to.” 

Andrew kisses the tips of his fingers before taking Jesse’s hand and brushing his mouth along the back of it. “Good. Because you have no idea how badly I want to kiss you.” 

Jesse’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and he takes a step forward. Andrew tips forward, resting their foreheads together and dragging his fingers along Jesse’s jawline. It feels too intimate, like they’ve known one another forever. 

“I’m normally not this nervous,” Andrew whispers. 

“It’s understandable. I tend to bring that out in people.” It doesn’t come out as deadpan as Jesse had hoped, given his voice is shaking a bit. 

Andrew giggles, puffs of air fanning Jesse’s lips. “Okay, I’m going to kiss you now.” He sounds serious, determined. 

“Boldly go where not many have gone before.” 

“Stop trying to make me laugh,” Andrew breathes. 

Jesse is opening his mouth to reply but Andrew’s lips beat him to it. Jesse lets out a low noise, shifts to line up their mouths better. Andrew tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth before kissing him harder, one hand coming around to smooth up and down his back. Jesse parts his lips and Andrew’s tongue slips inside, finding Jesse’s own and sending shivers through his body.

Andrew falls back against the door, tugging Jesse in by his hips. Their torsos line up and Jesse can feel the firm press of Andrew’s dick against his own. 

They kiss deeper, harder, Jesse’s hands sliding into Andrew’s fluffy hair. 

Andrew breaks away, panting. “God, Jesse.” He starts kissing Jesse’s neck and then sneezes, once, twice. 

“Oh gosh, I’m so,” he pulls back and sneezes into his elbow before he can say more. Jesse hears a nearby meow. “Oh, oh no. Do you have cats?”

Jesse steps back, his dick confused by the proceedings or lackthereof. “I do. Two.” 

“Oh bloody hell.” Andrew sneezes again, his eyes tearing up. “I’m sorry. Allergic.”

“Oh shit. Do you… I have Benadryl, will that help?”

Andrew nods, follows him to the bathroom. 

“They don’t go in here much.” Jesse closes the door behind them. 

“I’m so sorry,” Andrew says inexplicably again. 

Jesse fumbles around in the drawer before pulling out a strip of pills. “Stop, I’ve nearly killed you.”

Andrew laughs wetly. “It’s not that dramatic, thankfully. I just tend to sneeze a lot and look horribly unattractive. My food allergies are the only things that send me into anaphylactic shock and I carry an EpiPen for that.”

“Ah, so that’s what I felt a minute ago,” Jesse replies drily. 

Andrew laughs again. “Mm, no, that was all me.”

Jesse swallows, handing him the pills. 

Andrew tips his head back then bends under the faucet to wash two down. 

“Are you really going to be alright?” Jesse asks quietly, rubbing awkwardly at Andrew’s shoulder. 

Andrew sniffles, nodding. Then he’s hugging Jesse. It’s so unexpected, but kind of nice. 

“Thank you. You’re lovely, really.”

Jesse snorts. “I’ve brought you to a cat infested apartment. You’d better tell me your food allergies before I accidentally poison you too.”

“Mmm.” Andrew kisses his neck. “Still wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.”

Jesse shakes his head. “Are you sure you’re real?”

Andrew laughs. “Pretty sure.” Then he’s kissing Jesse again, slower now, like they’ve got all the time in the world. 

They make out against the counter and then, probably because it’s the safest place in Jesse’s apartment, jerk each other off right there too. Jesse’s braced between Andrew’s legs, knees shaking as they pant into each other’s open mouths. 

“Jesse, Jess, oh.”

“Yeah,” Jesse breathes, twisting his wrist and stroking Andrew harder. Andrew mirrors the action and Jesse whimpers. It’s been so long since he’s felt a hand that wasn’t his own. So long since anyone kissed him, licked him. 

For all these reasons, he doesn’t last long and wants to die of embarrassment. But Andrew just moans louder, tugging on Jesse’s hair and pushing into his fist. He comes all over Jesse a few minutes later, panting harsh against his neck. 

“Wow.” 

“Yeah.” Jesse grabs a hand towel and begins cleaning off their hands. 

Andrew giggles against his throat, nipping at his Adam’s Apple. “You make the hottest noises when you come.”

Jesse flushes red hot. Of course Andrew’s earnest declarations would extend to sex. 

“Um. Thank you.”

He must detect something in Jesse’s voice because Andrew pulls back, frowning. “Did I say something wrong?”

Jesse shakes his head, stares down at his feet. “I’m not good with...uh, dirty talk? Compliments? You name it.”

Andrew takes his chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting his head and pressing a firm kiss to his mouth. “Sorry. I tend to have trouble holding back what I’m thinking. Or feeling. I come on too strong sometimes.” His face goes pinched, his voice anxious, and Jesse realizes he doesn’t have the monopoly on insecurities and anxieties here. It loosens something in his chest, makes him push forward and bury his face in Andrew’s neck for one of those hugs Andrew seems so fond of. Sure enough he’s wrapped up in a strong embrace. 

“I know this can’t be… more than what it is, I suppose, but I do hope I haven’t frightened you off to the point that you’ll be throwing me out on my arse now.”

Jesse laughs, surprised. “Uh, no. No active plans to.”

“Oh, good,” Andrew sighs, squeezing him tighter and kissing behind his ear, his jaw. “I haven’t sneezed in a while. Perhaps it’s safe to venture out?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. We might have to don fedoras and fake mustaches and make a break for it.”

Andrew giggles into his neck once more; it’s quickly becoming Jesse’s favorite sound. “If we must, we must.”

They kiss one more time (Jesse could get addicted to this) before detangling, zipping up, and making their way outside. 

Jesse quickly scoops up both cats, who are currently on the couch, while Andrew hovers in the far corner of the room. 

“Introduce me?”

“Well, this guy on my right is Mr. Trunkles.” Jesse waves Mr. Trunkles paw at him. “And this one on my left is Napoleon.” Jesse repeats the motion. 

Andrew smiles and waves adorably back at them both. “I must say Napoleon is far too cute to be named after an artillery commander.”

“Ah, but he isn’t. He’s named after that Napoleon Dynamite movie, which I never saw but it came out while I was at NYU. So I’d be riding my bike around Manhattan and always pass the same school kids on their way to the bus. One would yell, ‘Hey Napoleon!’ at me, mistaking me for the actor. I found out his name and would repeatedly say, ‘Please, Abraham, I’m not that man,’ but he’d never believe me. So I decided to name the next cat I fostered Napoleon and then I of course couldn’t give him up.” 

Andrew is laughing before Jesse is even finished. “I adore this story. I can see how you’re a playwright, such wit!”

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Hardly.” 

“Hello, Mr. Trunkles and Napoleon not Bonaparte,” Andrew says, waving again. “Please excuse my rudeness for not venturing closer, but I do so fancy dry eyes and breathing. Not to say that’s your fault, you cannot help who you are. I give you both virtual head pats.” 

Jesse smiles stupidly and the cats jump out of his arms, heading towards Andrew. 

“Shit.” Jesse rushes to grab them. “Okay, go to my bedroom? It’s to the right. I’ll put them in my study.”

“You have a study,” Andrew says mournfully even as he starts toward the bedroom. “I’d so love to see it.”

Jesse shakes his head fondly and scoops up the cats and puts them in the other room. He grabs their food, water, litter and some toys. After multiple trips and a few near escapes he shuts the study door one last time and triumphantly calls out, “It’s safe!” 

Andrew pokes his head back into the room. “I get the tour now?” 

“Minus the study, sure.” They step to the middle of the room together. “You, uh, already saw the bathroom.” 

“I did,” Andrew grins. 

“And my bedroom.”

Andrew raises his hand. “Swear I didn’t snoop.”

“Oh good, I wouldn’t want you to uncover my assortment of S&M gear.”

“Scandalous!” Andrew exclaims. Jesse can’t remember the last time he laughed this much. 

“Living room,” Jesse waves, while Andrew begins looking around. 

“I like your record player.”

“Thanks, I doubt you’d like the records.” 

“Oh?” Jesse tells him about his assortment of musical theater vinyl. Andrew laughs some more. 

“Oh, and this map of London is great.” 

“Yeah I’m a bit of a collector. There’s more in the study.” 

“Knew I’d miss seeing that study of yours.” 

Jesse shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.” 

Andrew crosses to him, bending down for a soft kiss that deepens quickly. When he pulls back they’re both breathing hard. 

“You make me ridiculous.” Andrew’s voice is quieter.

Jesse’s pulse speeds up. “Lies, I think this is just you.” 

“All the mystery is gone already, yeah?” 

Jesse kisses his jaw, his neck. “Apparently.”

They walk into the kitchen hand in hand, which is also ridiculous. 

Jesse offers Andrew another beer and gets one for himself. They lean against the kitchen island drinking lazily. 

“I really love your flat.” Andrew knocks his shoulder against Jesse’s. “It’s so cozy.” 

“Aside from my cats.”

“No, I adore your cats! Just — from a distance. Tell me, did Abraham ever meet the real Napoleon?”

“He did. He thought it was a ruse.”

Andrew bumps his shoulder again and then stays there as they fall into the first real silence of the evening. 

Normally that freaks Jesse out, but this doesn’t feel awkward, like they’ve run out of things to say already. Jesse wonders if they even could, and that’s a scary thought. 

“Are you, uh, hungry or anything?”

“I’m good.” Andrew turns his head and smiles like he truly is, like he’d be happy standing here nursing beers the rest of the night. 

Jesse nods. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Same. I would’ve hated to go.” 

Jesse shakes his head at Andrew’s genuine expression. “Alright, do you have some sort of pre-leaving London bucket list?” 

“Pardon?”

“This whole night…” Jesse bites his lip. “Things like this don’t happen to me. It takes me forever to meet people and they rarely look like a 50s silver screen star when I do.” 

Andrew’s expression turns smug. 

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Yes, you’re attractive, huge shock. But I’m serious.”

Andrew puts his beer down and stands in front of Jesse. “Hey, you’re attractive too. So please try not to think whatever it is you’re thinking? There’s no big mystery, Jesse. I saw you at the pub and thought, ‘I really enjoy this person’s face and I want to see more of it.’ Then you started talking and, well, I’m pretty much prepared to spend my last 48 hours in this country with you if you wouldn’t mind it terribly.” 

Jesse swallows hard and places his own beer down with a shaky hand. He reaches out and pulls Andrew down, kissing him hard, desperate, still feeling like he’s in some kind of alternate reality. He hopes it’s answer enough. 

Andrew emits a low sound and kisses back enthusiastically. Before long they are making out against Jesse’s island, grinding against one another. Jesse’s cock is growing interested in an apparent round two, and he feels Andrew thickening up against his thigh as well. 

Jesse moans and tangles his tongue with Andrew’s, his hands on his waist. 

Andrew’s hands drift to Jesse’s ass and squeeze. “Fuck,” he breaks away, panting. “Do you. Can I see your bedroom again?” Andrew’s lips drift down his throat, sucking hard at his neck. 

“Yes, lets uh, do that.”  
____________________

It’s a disaster, getting to the bedroom. Andrew won’t stop touching him, kissing him. Jesse isn’t exactly complaining. He nearly trips over a cat toy and a shoe on their way out of the living room. 

There’s one small light on in the bedroom, but he can’t tear himself away from Andrew’s mouth to turn it off. 

“Jesse,” Andrew whispers, before easing him down on the bed he’s glad he made this morning. Jesse swallows, staring up at him as Andrew slowly unbuttons his own shirt. 

Jesse bites his lips and hoists himself up enough to quickly dispose of his own shirt. 

Andrew’s eyes darken and his fingers falter. “Look at you,” his words barely a breath. 

“I’d really rather not.”

Andrew finishes removing his own shirt but of course he has a tank top underneath. He lowers his head and kisses Jesse’s nipple before licking his way to the other one. “You’re too hard on yourself.” The words are pressed against his chest and leave goosebumps in their wake. 

Jesse gasps quietly. “My therapist says the same thing.”

“They sound smart.”

“She is, that’s why I’m still paying her.” He gasps again when Andrew bites at his nipple, tugging it between his teeth. 

Andrew laughs, kissing the now hardened nub once more. 

Jesse drags his palms down Andrew’s back, fitting his hands beneath the hem of his shirt and lifting. Andrew helps him halfway and then he’s draping himself onto Jesse, their bare chests pressed together. 

Andrew kisses his way up his neck, open-mouthed and shiver-inducing. When their lips meet again it’s with renewed urgency. 

“Fuck,” Andrew gasps Into Jesse’s mouth, their cocks dragging slowly together through their jeans. 

Jesse’s hands move down Andrew’s naked back, settling tentatively on his ass. 

“Please,” Andrew moans, and fuck does he sound good. Jesse squeezes his ass, then begins a slow grinding rhythm, encouraging Andrew to move with him. 

They keep that up for what feels like forever until Andrew breaks their kiss, his mouth at Jesse’s ear. “Can I suck you?”

It’s a miracle Jesse doesn’t come right there and then. “That… would not be unwelcome.”

Andrew giggles, the sound muffled against his temple. “Oh really? Such enthusiasm.” 

“I’m doing everything I can not to come right now,” Jesse says through gritted teeth. “Trust me, Andrew, there's enthusiasm.” 

Andrew stills, then ducks lower to pull his earlobe between his teeth. “I like when you talk like that.”

Jesse laughs, startled. “You’re so odd.”

“Mmmhmm.”

He slides gracefully down Jesse’s body, planting wet, hot kisses the entire way. Andrew’s hands undo the button on Jesse’s jeans before sliding the zipper down. He presses his mouth immediately to Jesse’s boxers, kissing his dick through the slit. 

“Oh, god.” 

“Mmm.” Andrew drags his tongue over the length, making his dick strain further against the thin cotton. “Should I use a condom?” 

Jesse blinks, mind too blown to even comprehend, then it clicks.

“Uh. There’s no possibility that I’m not clean, but if you…”

“No, I’m good. Got checked two weeks ago.”

Jesse nods slowly, rising up on his elbows and watching Andrew’s fluffy hair as he presses almost sweet kisses over his still clothed dick, while trying to ease down Jesse’s jeans. 

“So you, uh. I guess you do this a lot then?”

Andrew looks up, hands stilling on Jesse’s thighs. “Are you calling me a slag?” He smiles crookedly. 

“Um. I’m not sure?”

Andrew laughs and presses a kiss to Jesse’s belly button. “You mean to know if I sleep around, yeah?” 

Jesse closes his eyes. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

“It’s not; you’re being safe.” Andrew’s eyes are sweet, earnest yet again. 

Jesse shrugs. 

Suddenly Andrew is eye level with him again, kissing Jesse firm and hard. He presses their foreheads together as he breaks away. Jesse is beginning to love that. 

“I’ve had my fair share of partners, yes. But — well, I prefer relationships to hookups. It’s really hard to meet people, though, you know?”

Jesse definitely knows. 

“I don’t always do this myself. Sometimes I find it easier, but—“ He cuts himself off, whispering against Jesse’s neck. “And I wasn’t looking tonight. I really was just out with my friends.” 

Jesse stiffens. “I’m not trying to shame you or something. Sex is a perfectly healthy thing.” Just because Jesse hasn’t personally had it in years doesn’t mean there is something wrong with those who hook up all the time, and he really doesn’t want Andrew to think he’s judging. 

“Oh, I know. You’re lovely. I’m just— I don’t know, telling you and hoping you feel at ease?”

Jesse sighs. He’s totally killed the mood with his anxiety brain. “I do. Look, maybe we should—”

Andrew shifts up to kiss him again, pulling Jesse’s lip between his teeth and biting hard before sliding his tongue back inside, hot and slick. 

Jesse groans and grabs at Andrew, hand splayed on his back. “Oh,” Jesse replies inanely as they pull apart. 

“I don’t want to stop,” Andrew whispers. 

Jesse swallows. “Good. Me neither.”

—————————————-

“Oh, oh, fuck.” 

Andrew’s mouth is on his cock, hot and wet and too perfect for words. Jesse isn’t going to last much longer. It’s been so long. So fucking long. 

Andrew licks around the head, slow and obscene. Jesse can barely keep his eyes on him, has to shut them and moan. 

Andrew’s hands trace up and down his bare thighs. He buries his face in the curls at the base of Jesse’s dick, then dips lower to suck on one of Jesse’s balls. Jesse shudders, fingers gripping the comforter. Jesse moves to the other one, making these insanely hot noises around him. 

“Could suck you forever,” Andrew murmurs. He drags his tongue along the crease of Jesse’s thigh before licking up his dick again, taking it back in. 

“I’m,” Jesse groans. “Andrew, I’m.” 

Andrew pulls off with a gasping breath. “Yeah, please. Wanna feel it.” Then he sucks Jesse down again, his lips meeting his fingers at the base of his cock, and Jesse is done for. 

He plants his feet on the bed, thigh muscles tensing. He fists one hand in Andrew’s hair as he comes in his mouth. 

“Shit, oh god, Andrew.”

Andrew swallows it all. Jesse looks down at him, breathing hard, watches as his throat works around his cock before pulling up. Andrew drags his tongue along the head, making Jesse shiver with overstimulation. 

“Mmm.” Andrew giggles breathlessly, kissing his way up Jesse’s chest and to his lips. He kisses him closed-mouthed but Jesse grips him by the back of the neck and pushes his tongue inside. 

Andrew makes a surprised noise and kisses back, tangling his tongue with Jesse’s, letting him taste himself. 

Jesse moves his hand to cup Andrew’s erection. He’d taken off his pants before blowing Jesse but he’s still donning his black briefs. 

Andrew whimpers into his mouth when Jesse squeezes. 

Jesse nibbles on his bottom lip, mumbles, “let me return the favor?”

“God, please,” Andrew breathes out. 

Jesse has to kiss him again.  
_______________________

“I love your mouth,” Andrew is saying, his fingers tracing Jesse’s now swollen lips. They’re lying on their sides, facing one another. Jesse’s just given his first blowjob in two years; by the way Andrew had writhed and monned and whispered, ‘Fuck, baby, so good,’ Jesse assumes he did alright. 

(He’s steadfastly not thinking about the ‘baby’ thing or how it made his stomach flip. This encounter  
has already been ten times more intimate than he anticipated.)

Jesse bites playfully at Andrew’s finger. “Well yes seeing where it just was, of course you like it.”

Andrew laughs, pushes at the corner of Jesse’s mouth. “I like it for other reasons, too. I like it when you smile, and your dimples show. Yes, like that.” He moves his finger to the traitorous dimple.

Jesse flushes. “Do you always charm people this much after you’ve already gotten them in bed?”

“You constantly doubting my sincerity and continued implication of my lothorious ways might do my head in.” His tone is light though, and he dips closer to bop Jesse on the nose.

“Just still wondering if you’re a figment of my imagination.”

“I’m very real,” Andrew whispers, shifting closer to slot his leg between Jesse’s thighs. “Now tell me things.” He puts his head on Jesse’s shoulder. 

“Like what?” 

“Anything. I want to know everything about you.”

So Jesse tells him about his study abroad program, what made him fall in love with London, how much he loved going to the British Library and looking at old world maps. 

Andrew tells him about his brother and not picking something more steady like medicine. How he fell in love with theater at age sixteen after seeing a Theatre de Complicité piece (“It was like a spiritual awakening”). How his parents paid for drama school without having a ton of money, but that he and his dad still didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things; he felt the L.A. thing might just be Andrew taking his struggles to another continent. 

How he always felt he was letting his parents down when he bombed an audition. He tells Jesse about the work drying up eighteen months ago working at Wigmore Hall in London for a year while living with his flatmate Eddie until he got a Hollywood gig. Andrew details how he moved back to Surrey six months ago because it was cheaper and hurt less at the moment. 

He talks about the tradition he had with Rob and Eddie, going out drinking at pubs after mostly disappointing auditions yet they still managed to have a blast. 

Jesse mentions his sisters, how boring New Jersey is and how scary it was to move to a country in which he knew only himself, that he nearly hightailed it back home at least fifty times those first few months. 

It feels surreal, laying naked (under the sheets, at Jesse’s insistence) in his own bed with a virtual stranger, trading life stories. He never reveals this much about himself to people right away. 

Jesse wishes he could pinpoint what it is about Andrew that makes him feel not only that he can divulge these things, but makes him want to. 

Jesse props himself up on his elbow, chin resting on his palm and let’s Andrew’s voice wash over him, smiling a bit too fondly as he details his last days at his job and his friends setting up a whole ‘goodbye week.’ 

Which once again brings Jesse back to the reality of it all: he’s staying here in the country that Andrew, although not born in, has called his home while Andrew heads to the one that Jesse still considers his. 

Jesse doesn’t really like L.A. Too much sun, too many pretty, largely fake people. 

“You’ve got that look.” Andrew has trailed off mid-sentence about how he’s lucky he’s got dual citizenship as it makes it all so much easier, and is now looking at Jesse with concen. 

“What look?”

“Like if I opened your brain I'd find lots of clock gears spinning.”

“I sure hope you aren’t planning on that while I sleep.”

Andrew snorts and taps Jesse’s temple. “You alright? Or did I bore you terribly?”

Jesse shakes his head. “Definitely not bored.” He bites his lip, unable to find a good way to say _the thought of you being an ocean away and never seeing you again makes me inexplicably sad_ without sounding like a weirdo. So he says nothing. 

He tangles their feet together beneath the sheets and kisses Andrew, soft and slow. Andrew sighs into it, sliding his hand into Jesse’s curls and tugging. 

Before long they’re making out like teenagers, on their sides, the hair on their legs grazing with every movement, Andrew’s smooth and Jesse’s more coarse. There’s no urgency behind it as they explore molars and canines alike; Jesse loses track of how long they kiss. His dick is half-heartedly trying to get fully invested in the goings on but it feels like an afterthought. As if everything is secondary to Andrew’s lips, and the soft noises at the back of his throat, and the way his hands fit around Jesse’s waist, his fingertips pressed against the small of his back. 

Andrew rolls them over so Jesse is on top. It’s startling, but not unpleasant. Jesse’s knee is between Andrew’s thighs, their groins pressed tight together. Andrew’s almost fully hard. Jesse tucks his face against Andrew’s neck, kisses his salty skin. 

He gasps when Andrew’s fingers dip lower, resting on Jesse’s ass before squeezing. In a blink of an eye things aren’t slow and unhurried anymore. 

Jesse groans as Andrew’s palms kneed at his cheeks, beginning to move him against Andrew in a long, slow grind. Their dicks brush and bump, the friction delicious. 

“Again?” Jesse breathes against Andrew’s neck. He’s never— three times in one night. Not with another person, anyway. 

“If you’d like?” Andrew is already breathless, but Jesse can tell he’s trying to be diplomatic. Which is kind of ridiculous when Jesse is also now fully hard and ready to go. 

“I suppose I could suffer another orgasm,” Jesse deadpans. 

Andrew chortles. “You make me laugh so.” He sighs and grips Jesse’s ass harder, fucking up against him firmly. 

“Fucking hell.” Jesse moans, sucks at Andrew’s neck, rocking against him harder, faster. 

Soon they’re rutting together at a frantic, uncoordinated pace. Jesse can’t hold back the sounds emanating from his throat, or the gasp when Andrew’s index finger dips shallowly between his cheeks.

“Jesse, oh, Jesse,” Andrew moans. He bends his knees, locking them around Jesse’s hips. The action causes Jesse’s dick to slide lower, brushing against Andrew’s balls and ass with every thrust. 

“Oh _god_ yes.” Andrew scrabbles at Jesse’s back, pushing upward as Jesse rocks down, the head of his dick pressing against Andrew’s perineum. 

Jesse blinks sweat out of his eyes and drags his mouth up to Andrew’s rapid pulse in his throat, his jaw, the edge of his mouth. 

“So good,” Andrew slurs. “Feels so good, Jess.” 

Jesse shudders all over and comes against Andrew’s inner thigh. 

Andrew lets out a desperate sound and Jesse fumbles between them, reaching for Andrew’s cock, finding it wet at the tip. He smears the pre-come down, jerks him once, twice, until Andrew is coming, his mouth open on a silent gasp against Jesse’s lips.  
_________________________

Jesse grabs some tissues from his bedside table and wipes off his hand and Andrew’s stomach. Andrew stretches and smiles up at him, lazy and sated. Jesse bends to kiss his stomach and then flops onto his back, throwing his forearm over his eyes. 

“I really need to sleep.” He curls immediately onto his left side, his usual ‘comfort’ position. It places his back to Andrew. 

“Ah,” he hears. “Right. Of course.”

There’s shuffling behind him. When he looks over his shoulder he sees Andrew shrugging off the sheets and reaching for his undershirt. 

“Oh,” Jesse mumbles, unbidden. 

Andrew turns to him. “You…” he waves his hand and turns to face Jesse, legs folded beneath him. “I thought you’d like me to leave.” 

“No, um. I’d like you to stay, actually.”

Andrew grins brilliantly and chucks his shirt. “Fantastic.” He leans over, kisses Jesse quick. “Mind if I wash up?” 

Jesse shakes his head. “You know where the bathroom is.” 

“That I do.” He winks and bounces up, walking stark naked out of the room. 

Jesse flops down again, knuckling at his eyes. “What the hell am I doing?”

The smart thing would have been to let Andrew leave, just make it a true one night stand. But then again there’s a reason Jesse’s never really done this before. 

He’s still working out all twists and turns in his mind when Andrew walks back in, smiling shyly now. 

Jesse’s gaze drops to his soft cock curved in toward his left hip, the nearly trimmed curls at the base. 

“You’re…” Jesse shakes his head. There’s really no way to quantify how attractive Andrew is, much less put it in words. He’s probably already heard it a million times anyway. “This just isn’t how I expected my night to go.”

Andrew hums, crosses the room and gets back under the sheet. He kisses Jesse’s uncovered shoulder. “That’s good, I hope?”

“Good,” Jesse confirms. “Just weird. I’m not kidding when I say I don’t really do this. Plus I was a late bloomer, my first kiss was at nineteen. So yeah, the number of years I’ve been actually having sex is...limited. And now I’m telling you all of this and you’re going to wish you’d left before.”

Andrew laughs. “I’m really not. And I love that you’re telling me. In case you were wondering you’re incredibly good at the sex bits. No complaints here.”

“Oh, good,” Jesse deadpans. 

Andrew tips his chin to the right, kisses him soft and sweet. 

“I’m assuming it’s been quite a while from what you’ve said. I hope I was adequate?”

Jesse snorts. “Uh, yeah, more than.” 

Andrew noses at Jesse’s neck. “Hey, you’re not the only one in the room with insecurities.” 

It seems ludicrous that Andrew should be insecure about anything, but Jesse does recognize that movie star looks and charm don’t equal confidence or negate the inner workings of the brain. His therapist has told him that enough. 

He reaches over, wraps an arm loose around Andrew’s waist. “Let’s sleep.”

“Yes.”

It’s weird. Jesse hasn’t shared a bed in so long and there’s a lot of shifting and seeing how they fit together. 

They end up with Jesse on his left like he prefers, and Andrew spooning him from behind. 

“Goodnight, Jess.”

Not many people call him that. Andrew’s used it quite a few times tonight. Jesse finds himself liking the way it falls off Andrew’s tongue. 

“Night.”  
____________________________

Every time Jesse wakes up during the night, Andrew is still holding him, breath fanning evenly against his neck. When he realizes his contacts are sticking to his eyes he sneaks out to the bathroom to remove them, then slides back under Andrew’s arm without waking him. 

The last time Jesse wakes up, which just so happens to be morning, he’s alone in bed. 

Jesse sighs. “Probably some ridiculously vivid dream,” he mutters. The room still smells like sex though, so that theory is out. 

He reaches for his glasses, then finds his pants and fishes out his BlackBerry. There’s a text from Justin. 

_Made it to the airport! Hope you got laid_

Jesse types back quickly. 

_sorry again for bailing like that. Weirdest hookup ever_

_weird like kinky?_ is the immediate reply. 

_no. Sweet, for lack of better word._

He doesn’t mention he woke up alone, in pure cliche fashion. He’s still trying not to think about that part. 

_please don’t tell me you sat around drinking tea and sharing your life stories instead of boning_

Jesse snorts. _we did both. Well, not the tea part. But the other things._

_good!!_

Jesse rolls his eyes and puts on a new pair of boxers. 

He wanders into the living room, wondering where the cats are before remembering. 

Something catches his eye and he looks to the right to find… Andrew, sitting on the balcony. He’s got a cigarette between his lips. 

When he spots Jesse he removes it and waves with his free hand, smiling bright. He stubs out his cigarette and pops his head back in.

“Morning! Sorry, just really needed a fag. Wanted one last night, just always feel the urge to, um. After.” He blushes and Jesse is captivated. 

“You didn’t leave,” Jesse blurts. 

Andrew’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Right, that — I was hoping to rejoin you before you woke.” 

Andrew walks over to him, brushes his mouth over Jesse’s. “Hello. You wear glasses.” He touches the edge of them. 

“Hi.” Jesse blinks, smiling. “I do. contacts, mostly.” 

Andrew drags his hand down Jesse’s bare chest. He’s wearing just his white undershirt and briefs. “I love them.” Jesse swallows hard. 

A loud meow sounds behind him, through the study door. 

Andrew giggles. 

“Shit. Sorry. I need to feed them, scoop litter, glamorous stuff.”

Andrew kisses him again. “Do you mind if I shower?”

Jesse shakes his head. 

“Cheers,” Andrew says, smiling and kissing him once more. 

Jesse watches him go then heads to his study, opening the door and slipping inside. 

The cats aren’t happy to say the least. “Sorry. If it’s any consolation, he likes you. Or so I’m told.” 

After he’s fed them and changed the litter he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The shower is still running. He doesn’t know if Andrew found the towels. 

He grabs one from the hall closet and knocks on the door before peaking inside. “Uh, hey, brought you a towel.”

“Jesse?” Andrew pulls the curtain back. He looks unbelievably good. 

Andrew’s eyes drop to the towel. “Oh, cheers. Join me?” He looks up, wiggling his eyebrows. Jesse laughs. 

“Um. I’ll just. Breakfast, do you want breakfast?”

Andrew’s smile dims, but he nods. “That sounds lovely.”

Jesse begins making some fried eggs and toast, all while kicking himself. He could’ve been under the hot spray with Andrew’s hands on him, and instead he’s still dirty and alone in the kitchen. 

It isn’t a surprise or anything. It took him two months to shower with his last boyfriend. Something about being so naked and vulnerable, all out in the open, without the comfort of a darkened bedroom or blankets. 

Jesse puts on water to make coffee in his French press but decides to put in extra in case Andrew wants for tea. He’s sure he has… some around. Just in case the British half of Andrew is truly _stereotypically_ British. He’s plating the eggs when two arms slip around his waist and lips mouth at the back of his neck. 

“Mm, smells great.”

Jesse thinks, _I could get used to this_ and stiffens. Nevertheless, he smiles. 

“It’s not much.”

He turns quickly, kissing Andrew before realizing how rank his breath is. 

“Ugh, lemme— I’m just going to brush my teeth, take a quick shower okay? There's earl grey if you want. I know that’s boring.”

“It’s fine,” Andrew smiles. “I’ll wait for you and have tea first.”

Jesse wants to protest that he doesn’t have to wait but Andrew looks sad at any other prospect, so he sprints to the bathroom and takes the world's fastest shower. 

Ten minutes later he emerges feeling fresher, still toweling his hair and now in a loose pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. With his contacts back in. 

Andrew looks up and then gapes. Jesse wipes at his mouth for stray toothpaste. He drags a hand through his wet curls and Andrew swallows. 

“I uh, did the coffee for you but I don’t know how you take it.”

“Black, actually, so that's great. Thanks.”

Andrew smiles and they sit across from each other at the bar stools on the island, digging in. 

“This is delicious,” Andrew exclaims, covering his mouth as he talks. 

“It’s nothing.”

Things suddenly feel awkward in a way that was absent last night. And there’d been an exchange of bodily fluids and everything. Jesse finds it so strange that small talk can be weirder than sex. 

They’re busy chewing so it’s mostly okay, but Jesse still feels some kind of shift. He wonders if the spark that had seemed so strong was already gone. 

But then Andrew launches into a detailed description of his favorite teas, from best to worst, in pure exaggerated English fashion. Jesse is cracking up by the time he ends with, “truth be told, I do actually prefer coffee.”

“What’s the first thing you’ll do in LA?” Jesse asks as they take the plates to the sink. 

“Oh, gosh, probably sleep. Bloody hate international flights. I get the worst jet lag. But afterwards I’ll most likely go to Griffith observatory. I adore it.”

That’s probably the one place Jesse actually likes in LA. “I love it there,” he admits quietly, rinsing the plate. 

“Had a feeling you would.” Andrew turns to lean against the sink as Jesse washes. 

“Yeah, why’s that?”

Andrew shrugs. “Old maps, celestial bodies. Sort of go hand in hand?”

“Sort of.” Jesse laughs. He turns off the water and drops his hands. “Actually, there's this book I have that along with a ton of world map photos also has a bunch of celestial globes in it. It’s pretty cool.”

“I’d love to see.” The earnestness is back in Andrew's voice. Jesse isn’t sure if it ever truly leaves. 

“What, now?”

Andrew shrugs again. “Why not?”

He heads to the living room and leaps over the back of the couch, turning his head and smiling at Jesse to join. 

“Let me guess: you were a gymnast,” Jesse deadpans. 

“I was!” Andrew exclaims. “Well, four years of school gymnastics anyway. And swimming.”

“Oh my god,” Jesse mutters from the bookcase. He joins Andrew on the couch and they pour over the hardcover book together, Jesse pointing out his favorite photos and explaining each. 

He keeps checking to see if Andrew’s eyes have glazed over and instead finds him alert and engaged. 

Once done with that Andrew begins talking about LA again. He’ll be sharing a “flat” with his friend Rob and his old roommate Eddie. “I imagine we will all bomb our auditions and get drunk at the pub together just like we did in London, but I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Well, as long as you’re optimistic,” replies Jesse dryly; Andrew cracks up. 

“Yes clearly. I’ll probably get some retail job again. Maybe I’ll be a hipster in a record shop ala John Cusack. Or I’ll go back to being a barista.”

“I don’t get that first reference, but yes, you’re certainly a hipster.”

Andrew laughs again. “And you’re a bit of an elitist arsehole.”

Jesse snaps his fingers. “Aw shucks, I knew you’d realize it sooner or later.”

Andrew laughs yet _again_ , head tipping back. Jesse can’t help but join in. Their eyes meet and suddenly that crackle is back in the air, but something feels different this time. Last night there was planned intent. It was obvious they were going to sleep together and do so as much as possible. In the light of day these assumptions have evaporated, and what’s passing between them now feels more spontaneous yet also more comfortable. 

Andrew smiles, a little off-centered. His eyes are dark as he leans forward, cupping Jesse’s cheek and kissing him shallowly once, twice, three times. His tongue swipes across Jesse’s bottom lip the last time around. 

He looks almost shy when he pulls back, slouched against the cushions, and it gives Jesse courage. He pushes up onto his knees and leans forward and down, capturing Andrew’s mouth with his own, sucking his bottom lip between his own. 

Andrew lets out the hottest, barely there whimper and gets a hand in Jesse’s still damp hair, tugging him in so that Jesse nearly unbalances, and instead shifts to straddle Andrew’s lap. 

“God,” Andrew breathes against his jaw, his hands slipping to Jesse’s ass, palming up and down before sliding around to his thighs. Then they’re kissing fast and hard, Jesse moaning into Andrew’s mouth, Andrew’s hands all over him. 

Somehow Jesse winds up on his back with Andrew on top of him. Their dicks rub together through Andrew’s unfortunate jeans and Jesse’s sweats. Jesse is too turned on to figure out how to make his hands work, so instead of trying to pop buttons he just wraps his legs shamelessly around Andrew’s hips and arches his back. 

“Jess, oh, Jesse,” Andrew pants against his neck, his dick so hot even through the layers. 

“Yes, yeah.” He grapples at Andrew’s ass, squeezing. 

“Oh, oh, fuck, I’m—” Andrew grinds down hard, his mouth wet on Jesse’s clavicle before tensing. It’s one of the hottest things he’s been a part of, and it only takes a few more thrusts against Andrew’s thigh for Jesse to come himself, breathless and gasping. 

They kiss lazily for long minutes after, smiling and laughing quietly. 

“Well then,” Andrew says. 

“Uh-huh.” Jesse smooths a hand down the curve of Andrew’s spine. He never even got his shirt off. 

“Feels like we’re doing this a bit backwards,” says Andrew, reading his mind. 

“Yeah?” 

Andrew hums, nips at Jesse’s neck, his jaw. “Not complaining, though.” 

“Good,” Jesse replies quietly, idly playing with Andrew’s hair. 

“I do need some clean clothes, though. Now especially. And your poor cats have been ostracized due to me.” 

Jesse sighs and shifts to get up. He knew he’d have to let Andrew leave eventually, but he was hoping they had a bit more time. 

Andrew turns to him as they both sit up, biting his lip. “Erm, would you like to come back to my flat?”

“Huh?” 

Andrew blushes. “I mean, the place is mostly bare aside from an air mattress and some drinks and biscuits, but we could order take-away and rough it? Some of my friends are coming from London tonight to go to this rubbish pub we used to frequent in my hometown when we were barely legal and… yeah. I’ve got no TV or anything but at least your cats could have their lives back and we could…” He breaks off after realizing he’s been rambling, Jesse supposes. 

Jesse’s still a bit stunned that Andrew doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet either. That he wants Jesse to meet his friends. 

“But I’m sure you must be busy.” 

Jesse blinks and looks at Andrew, who is now staring at his hands. 

“Yes, I had a very exciting day planned of staring at my typewriter and willing words to come.” 

“I love that you have a typewriter.” 

“I do also have a computer but I just prefer writing on the typewriter. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t actually own a TV, because I don’t watch it. Or movies. I listen to the radio for my news, so… you not having one isn’t a problem.” 

Andrew looks up, grinning. “Yeah?” 

“Um. Let me get some clothes together? If you want me to…”

“Yes, yeah. I’ve got to leave for the plane tomorrow but not till early afternoon.” 

Jesse nods, reality setting in again. 

“Okay. Um. I’ll meet you downstairs. I’ve got to let the cats out, get them all set up.” 

“Brilliant, just let me uh, clean up a bit first?”

Jesse blushes. Yeah, he kind of needs to do that too. 

Jesse still hasn’t moved off the couch when Andrew comes back into the room, smiling and kissing him. “See you down there.”

“What am I doing?” he wonders aloud for the millionth time as the door closes. He’s well aware spending another day (and night) with Andrew isn’t going to make never seeing him again any easier, but he also can’t seem to give it up so soon. Jesse pulls himself off the couch, changes his boxers and pants, and goes to liberate his cats. 

It’s about forty minutes by rail to where they’re headed. In that period, Andrew tells Jesse how his parents still live in Surrey, in Banstead where it’s very green and suburban. When Andrew moved back last year he chose Guilford, in a flat above a pizzeria. 

“It’s not the middle of nowhere, but it also isn’t London. I just needed a break, to get away from the taunt of the theater. Our place in L.A. is kind of the same deal. Not the city proper, but Silverlake -- my aunt lives near there. I remember having a similar feeling about it the last time I visited, years ago. That I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by a big city.” 

Jesse nods. “Makes sense.” 

“Although, here I’ve been able to get by with my Vespa, but I fear I’ll need a car in California.” 

“Of course you have a Vespa,” Jesse laughs. 

“How dare you besmirch Sally. We went through a lot together.” 

Jesse laughs harder. Andrew smiles and takes his hand, right there on the train. 

Jesse looks down at how their fingers fit together and smiles as well. “How’s the pizza at the place you live above?” 

Andrew smirks. “I’m sure you’d say it’s rubbish, all New York spoilt, but it isn’t horrid.” 

“Yeah, well, L.A. pizza probably isn’t much better.” 

“I guess I’ll just have to visit New York then.” 

Jesse’s pulse skips, but he says nothing. 

Andrew squeezes his hand. “Do you go home often?” 

“Few times a year. Hanukkah, Rosh Hashanah, stuff like that. And my family visits. My best friend just flew back, he was the one at the bar.” 

“I’m half Jewish. Dad’s side. We’re secular, mostly. Well, Dad says he’s an atheist. When people ask me if I feel more British or American I tell them I feel more Jewish, and it’s the truth. It’s a side of my heritage I’ve always been drawn to.”

Jesse can’t pass that up and launches into a depiction of Hebrew school, his Bar Mitzvah, and family gatherings until it’s time to deboard. It’s about half a mile from the station to where Andrew lives on High Street, so they decide to walk. It’s lightly drizzling of course, but it’s also a rather mild August day. 

“I don’t really mind rain, do you? I mean, getting wet by it and such.”

Jesse lips twitch. “Well, I’d prefer not to, but it isn’t in my top ten least favorite things ever.”

Andrew bounces on his heels. “Oh do tell what these top ten least favorite things are.” 

“Number one, people asking me that question.” 

“Oh, ouch, I’m wounded!” 

Jesse snorts and they keep on walking. Andrew reaches for his hand again and Jesse willingly gives it over. 

Andrew’s apartment is a studio and Jesse mourns its emptiness. He would’ve loved to see Andrew’s walls, inevitably lined with posters of bands and movies he’s probably never heard of. Andrew was not kidding with there literally only being an air mattress and some makeshift sheets. Jesse puts his bag on the floor near the door and removes his shoes as Andrew does the same. 

“I’d give you the tour, but,” Andrew trails off laughing. He crosses to the kitchen area, just off to the left. “Water?” 

“Sure.” 

He pulls out two bottles from the fridge. 

“So um, Carey and Jamie are going to meet us at the Malthouse around seven. It’s this pub that we’d all gone to forever and it’s closing down next month so it seemed almost fitting. It’s out closer to my parents, will take about twenty on the tube.” 

“Your parents, uh, won’t be there right?” 

Jesse has a hard enough time meeting the parental units of people he’s been dating for months; he can’t imagine something like _this_. 

Andrew laughs. “No, good god, no. I saw them yesterday morning. But um, my brother might show up?”

Jesse swallows. “Okay. Are you, uh, out? To your family?” He realizes they haven’t actually talked about their sexualities. 

“I am. They constantly thought I was dating Carey while in Six Form. I had to tell them I was only into blokes and dating Rob, actually.” 

Jesse blinks. “Rob— the Rob you’ll be rooming with?” Then he realizes he sounds like a jealous boyfriend and flushes. 

Andrew tilts his head and he looks -- happy?

 _This guy is so weird_. 

“Yeah, but that ended ages ago. We’re better off mates.” 

“You don’t have to—I mean, you and I aren’t—”

Andrew’s joyful expression shutters and Jesse immediately wants to take it back. 

“Right, of course.” Andrew clears his throat. “And you? Gay? Bi? Out?” 

“Gay. Yes. And seeing it's been two years since my last boyfriend, I wouldn’t be surprised if my mother resorts to putting my photo on a Jewish dating site. I think she has her heart set on adopted babies.” 

Andrew laughs. “Two years, wow.” He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Jesse still bristles a bit. 

“I’d said it’s been a while.” 

“Hey, no.” Andrew reaches out with his free hand and grabs Jesse’s. “I guess I just meant… I wonder what makes me so special. I’m honored, frankly.” 

Jesse stares at him, then has to surge forward for a kiss. “You’re so ridiculous,” Jesse breathes when they break apart. 

He can feel Andrew’s lips curve into a smile. “Is that the prerequisite, then?” 

Andrew kisses him again before he can reply, hard and a bit dirty. 

Jesse moans and runs his fingers through Andrew’s hair. 

“Wanna make out on my crap mattress?” Andrew’s teeth bite along his jawline. 

“Well, with that ringing endorsement, how can I say no?” They fumble to the corner of the room and fall onto the bed. 

They really do just make out, almost innocently. Perhaps Andrew was right; they are doing this all backwards, not following any sort of sex tragetory. Jesse can’t say he really minds. 

After about thirty minutes of kissing and barely touching below the waist they pull apart, lips swollen and hair mussed. They’re both hard but it isn’t insistent.

Andrew drops soft kisses on Jesse’s cheeks, his nose. “Can I take you to the shops? Show you my favorite places?” 

“Yes,” Jesse replies, heart soaring. 

So they go, after Andew changes his clothes (another plaid shirt, red flannel this time). Andrew is bright and energetic as they walk down the quaint cobblestone streets at the center of town, nostalgically pointing out all the changes that have taken place. Such as: 

“There was a Virgin Megastore here. Now it’s a Zavvi and it’s not the same. I used to spend hours here in the 90s, I loved the listening stations. I still remember when Ok Computer came out.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Andrew laughs. “What music were you listening to in 1997?” 

“Miss Saigon, I think.”  
___________________________

And: 

“There was a place called Wimpy just up there. I think for the Popeye character? Because it was all about hamburgers. Anyway, you could host private parties and my friends and I all had our birthdays there as kids.”

“Oh, we had stuff like that. My sisters loved Plaster Paint Palace. I preferred the Ice Cream Palace.” 

“Was everything royalty then?” 

“Of course, it was New Jersey.”  
___________________________

And also: 

“The last Woolworths just closed here this year. It was so depressing.” 

“I loved going there as a kid,” Jesse says, “It was like some grand adventure.” 

“Right?!” 

They both smile stupidly at each other. Jesse’s never thought reminiscing over an old five and dime could make his stomach do somersaults. But then again it probably has something to do with the gorgeous guy attached to that smile.  
____________________________

Jesse’s eyes light up when he sees the Borders and Andrew must see it because he tugs on his hand. 

“Wanna?” 

“Yeah.” 

Jesse gets lost in bookstores, is the thing. Both literally and metaphorically. He always starts at the Atlases and Geography section, then makes his way to Drama. After that he’ll pursue fiction as if he hasn’t a thousand times before, seeking out new things and old ones he’s yet to buy. He’ll linger over Russian literature, and then, he’ll finish with non-fiction. When he has his pile he usually heads over to the music and movies section, as there’s always plenty of seats and usually a small table. That’s of course where he finds Andrew, who is looking at the back of a CD. 

Andrew glances up and smiles, waving. Jesse instantly feels bad as he almost forgot he was there. It’s been… a while. 

Andrew heads over with a few CDs, one movie, and one book under his arm, not looking put out in the slightest. 

“Wow, you’ve got a lot!” 

Jesse shakes his head. “I just like to sit and browse. I rarely even buy anything. Or if I do, I only buy one at a time. Books should be consumed, not decoration.”

Andrew flushes. “Please don’t let my books that are currently flying overseas hear you say that.” 

“I won’t, if you promise to read some and fulfill their destiny,” Jesse grins. 

“Will do.”

Andrew settles down next to him. 

“Oh we don’t— I don’t need to look at them all, we’ve already been here a while.” 

Andrew waves him off. “Jesse, it’s fine. I just like being somewhere you clearly adore.” 

Jesse’s chest tightens. They end up compromising: moving to the cafe where Andrew drinks a latte and reads his book while Jesse flips slowly through all of his. 

Jesse leaves with one new play and Andrew offers to put it in his “rucksack” along with his own purchase. 

“That’s such a terrible word. You’re half-American, just call it a backpack.” 

“Non! Je refuse!” 

“Oh god, do you actually speak French?” 

“Oui. Tes yeux sont très beaux.”

Jesse groans. “Of course you do.” He refuses to think about just how hot he finds that, or what Andrew moaning broken French in bed might sound like.

“Do you speak any other languages?” Andrew asks. 

Jesse nods. “I’m fluent in Polish. My ancestors are largely from Poland and Ukraine. I actually majored in anthropology and cultural pluralism at NYU, the writing stuff was always a minor. But ironically enough it’s actually easier to find a job in that. So yes, not uh, anything exactly sexy, like the language of love.” 

Andrew has stopped on the sidewalk and is gaping. “What?” Maybe that was too much of an incoherent ramble. 

“You’re… really fucking smart. Wow. I’m really self-conscious now.” 

Jesse rolls his eyes. “I’m not. I’m just an obnoxious Jewish kid from Queens.” 

Andrew shakes his head. “Nope, you’re brilliant and I demand you tell me about your studies.” 

“So you can be bored to tears?” 

“Ha! Jokes. Come, let’s eat?” 

“Sure.” 

They go to Jamie’s Italian and Jesse talks about his course work, his thesis, how a few of his opinion pieces on cultural pluralism and democracy made it into The New Yorker. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re published.” 

Jesse laughs. “It’s… yeah, I mean it was flattering but it’s just an op-ed, not like a true byline or anything. But the play— I’m excited for that. And The New Yorker stuff did help me get the job I have now.” 

“Do you think you’ll go back? To the States, I mean?” 

“Maybe. I’m sure I could’ve gotten work at a publishing house in the City for shittier pay and a higher cost of living, but I just needed a change of scenery.

Sounds wistful as he responds, Andrew nods. “I know the feeling. The itch to escape has been in me for a while.” 

They finish lunch, Andrew paying despite Jesse’s protests. 

They walk around High Street a bit more, window shopping and going into a store here and there. They stop in Sainsbury’s and get a few basic things for tonight. 

“I’m a bit knackered,” Andrew says as they exit. “Mind if we head back?” 

“Of course not.” 

Back at Andrew’s apartment, Andrew naps while Jesse reads. His attention gets diverted anytime Andrew turns over or makes a soft snuffling sound. He’s as beautiful in repose as he is awake; for the first time in a long time Jesse has the urge to jot down some poetry. 

It’s overly domestic, this, and Jesse tries to get his mental bearings together, especially with dinner rapidly approaching. Andrew hasn’t truly seen Jesse’s anxiety manifest itself yet. He wills his brain and body to keep it together tonight; if only it were that easy.  
____________________________

Jesse ends up falling asleep too and they both awaken when the alarm on Andrew’s phone sounds. 

“Sorry. Guess I was more tired than I thought.” He looks adorably rumbled. “Been a mad week, what with packing and the movers and seeing every person I’ve ever known.” 

“It’s fine, it’s your apartment. And I napped a bit myself.” 

Andrew smiles drowsily. He leans over on his elbow, giving Jesse a soft, slow kiss. 

He wishes they could just stay here, where Jesse doesn’t have to worry about anyone else breaking this bubble. But he knows it’s selfish, so they heave themselves up. Andrew puts product in his hair that makes it less poofy (Jesse silently mourns this) and they head out. Andrew grabbed an umbrella after they’d looked out the window, so they end up standing close together and sharing it as they walk to the station. 

Andrew prattles on about his friends and nights they’d spend at this bar, jumping on the bouncy castle that was still set up outside, long after parents had taken their kids home, and dancing to terrible songs the DJ on Friday nights would play. 

“I’m sorry in advance if I’m weird tonight,” Jesse blurts once they’re on the train. 

“Hmm? You’re lovely.” 

Jesse rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty much a disaster all the time, especially meeting new people.” 

“Well I think you’ve done alright thus far. And if you think I’m _not_ a disaster then I’ve certainly got you fooled.” He picks up Jesse’s hand and kisses the back of it, like this is some Victorian romance.

 _That’s because I’ve only been around you_ , Jesse nearly says, and then is so startled he can’t speak. Being so comfortable around someone so soon is… an utterly foreign concept for him. It shouldn’t make sense, and he doesn’t personally understand it. The scholar in him would begin sprouting some nonsense along the lines of Plato’s Symposium and split-aparts, but Jesse’s always been a bit too much of a realist for such romantic notions as that. 

“Have you told your friends I’m joining you?” 

Andrew nods. “My brother can’t come, he’s on call, but everyone else will be there.

Jesse is silently relieved. “And you told them I’m your…new random friend?” 

Andrew blushes. “I mean, I didn’t specify but they were at the club last night, they know I left with someone.” 

_Was that really only last night?_

He groans into his hands. “This is so embarrassing.” 

Andrew is silent beside him. When Jesse looks up he seems almost hurt. 

“Sorry, I… didn’t think you’d have a problem with them knowing we’re together. I mean, slept together.” 

Jesse sighs. “I’m not ashamed. I’m out, I told you that, but— I’m embarrassed about anyone I barely know being aware of my precise sexual encounters. It’s just… I don’t know. Sex has always been pretty private for me and we aren’t…” 

_Boyfriends_ , he thinks. 

Andrew looks sad. He opens his mouth to say something, but then their stop is announced. 

“They’ll adore you,” Andrew promises, kissing Jesse’s cheek as the doors open. “And they won’t take the piss, no worries.” 

“You are way too optimistic for my worldview.” 

Andrew laughs.  
_____________________________

Andrew was, naturally, correct. His friends are incredibly nice and well-mannered. There’s no teasing, no crass remarks like those Jesse witnessed countless times with Justin’s group of friends in college. In fact, no one treats Jesse any differently than they would another member of their circle. (Although at one point Carey does whisper something in Andrew’s ear and Andrew’s cheeks pinken up as he looks at Jesse again). 

Jesse’s quiet, for the most part. He lets Andrew charm everyone and tell nostalgic tales. There’s many pints of Lager along with fish and chips. They’ve got a long table along the back of the pub and Andrew’s arm is thrown casually along the back of Jesse’s chair. Jesse politely answers some questions directed his way, willing his throat not to close up. But most of the time he’s happy to listen to Andrew and his friends talk. The affection between them is easy to see, and he smiles fondly. Jesse offers to get the next round, and Andrew, who is now slightly tipsy, says “Cheers, love,” and kisses Jesse, absentmindedly and familiar. 

Jesse’s ears are hot as he walks to the bar. 

As he waits he sees Carey approach. 

“Hullo!” she says, playfully bumping Jesse’s hip. “Figured I’d keep you company.” 

Jesse tilts his head. “Is this the part of the movie where the best friend warns the suitor not to break the protagonist’s heart? I’ve been told that happens.” 

Carey giggles, light and sweet. “Are you his suitor then?” 

Jesse looks down, frowning. He shakes his head. “We both know this can’t go anywhere.” Jesse isn’t sure if he means he and Carey know that, or him and Andrew do, but it's the same difference he supposes. 

“You’d like it too, though,” Carey says, not a question. 

Jesse doesn’t reply. She bumps his hip again. “And I know Andrew Russell Garfield, so I’m positive in asserting that he would also like it to.” 

Jesse presses his lips together and shakes his head again. “Doesn’t matter. He’s moving over 5,000 miles away. It isn’t practical.” 

Carey snorts. “Well whoever said love was practical.” 

Jesse looks at her, eyes wide, but she cuts him off before he can protest. “I know what a one night stand looks like. I even know what a one night stand of Andrew’s looks like. This is a bit of a love job if I do say so myself.” 

Jesse’s breath catches. “Figured he was just this way with everyone,” Jesse mutters. “He’s so… open.” 

“Oh don’t get me wrong, our Andrew falls a bit in love with everyone he meets. Friends, partners, you name it. But that being said, he does guard who he lets in and even though I’ve only spent ninety minutes with you both, I can’t recall the last time he’s been this happy.”

The drinks are placed on a tray in front of them and Jesse startles. Carey steadies him, squeezing his shoulder. “I hope I haven’t overstepped. I just thought you should know that if you’re thinking him content to never see you again after tomorrow, you’re daft.”

Jesse’s laughter bubbles out of him. “Are you always this blunt?” 

“Oh darling, yes.” 

They walk back to the booth, Andrew tilts his head in silent questioning when he sees them. Jesse shrugs at him and smiles, settling down the drinks and kissing Andrew’s temple as he sits. Andrew looks surprised but happy. He slips his arm around Jesse’s waist and continues talking animatedly with his hands to Tom. 

It’s so easy to imagine this being the norm. Nights out with Andrew’s friends, Jesse awkward and out of place yet comfortable under the weight of Andrew’s arm. Like they’re boyfriends. 

Jesse takes a long chug of his beer and resolutely stops thinking about impossibilities. Nevertheless, Carey’s words intermittently creep into his subconscious. They leave after another half hour.

Tom is the designated driver so they walk with Andew’s friends to his car. 

There are big hugs and kisses for Andrew (and more than one shedding of tears), along with hearty exclamations of “lovely to meet you” and “hope our paths cross again” to Jesse. 

“Think about what I said,” Carey whispers in his ear, kissing his cheek before hugging Andrew again. 

“Was that okay?” Andrew asks, a tremor in his voice, after the car pulls away. 

Jesse doesn’t tell him that he popped a Zoloft before they left and that his hands were shaking under the table anytime he wasn’t drinking. “It was as good as it gets for me,” he answers honestly. 

He’s never going to feel fully comfortable, at ease. These are just facts. He squeezes Andrew’s hand. “Your friends are great and clearly adore you.”

“They are,” Andrew says, eyes shining with some lingering tears. He leans his head on Jesse’s shoulder, pressing his face against Jesse’s neck. Jesse strokes the back of his hand, mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions.  
___________________________

“Maybe this is totally daft,” Andrew says as he lets them into his apartment. “So what if I’ve got the savings and an aunt to fall back on if I can’t pay my rent. It’s starting from scratch and who’s to say anything will come of it? Maybe I should just stay.” 

He slips his shoes off by the door and then throws himself down on the air mattress in pure dramatic fashion, worthy of any actor. 

Jesse bites his lip, trying not to laugh. “You sound like me when I was about to move here.” 

Andrew sighs. “I don’t know if I want to go anymore.” 

Jesse swallows, joining him on the bed. Andrew immediately pulls him closer, hands at his waist. 

“Well, if you fail there’s always my play. We haven’t started casting yet.” 

He regrets saying it as soon as the words come out. Sure, it hasn’t escaped his attention that Andrew has acted on the stage and Jesse just happens to have a play being put on soon. Maybe, if life had been different. If L.A. hadn’t been a thought, Andrew might’ve auditioned. Maybe they would’ve met and struggled with unbearable sexual tension while Jesse tried to remain professional. Maybe. 

But that isn’t reality and by the look on Andrew’s face— the first trace of actual anger that Jesse’s witnessed— he’s fucked up royally. 

“I don’t…” Andrew stops, drags a hand through his hair. “Fuckin’ hell, d’you think I’m looking for some kind of hand out? Jesse, I’m sure your play is fantastic and all, but if you think I’d accepted a role as some sort of pitiful gesture, you—”

“No, I know. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. Even though I’m sure you’d actually deserve the role.” 

Andrew’s lips form a thin line as he studies Jesse, then he exhales loudly. “Sorry, I’m a bit on edge I think. Just… fuck it, I wasn’t expecting you, alright? I wasn’t expecting…” he waves between them, “this. Two days ago you didn’t exist. And now you’re here and you’re brilliant and funny and you make me feel…” He trails off, shaking his head. “And on top of all that you write plays and I’m leaving after not being cast in a play for nearly two years and it feels like some cosmic joke is all.” 

“I know,” Jesse replies with feeling. He kisses Andrew’s hair, his forehead. They meet blindly in a messy kiss, frantic and needy. Andrew licks his way into Jesse’s mouth, moaning and gripping his hair. Jesse shudders and slips his leg between Andrew’s thighs. 

Andrew bites at the corner of his mouth, plants kisses along his jaw. “You’ll be home for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, yeah? That’s in a month, I could meet you in New York…”

Jesse breaks away, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, we. I don’t think we should…” He sighs, opening his eyes. “Andrew,I just think it's going to make all of this unnecessarily harder. You’ve got a new start, you need to focus on your career. You shouldn’t be spending money on plane tickets or coordinating phone calls due to time differences.” 

“Jesse,” Andrew starts, eyes narrowing. “If this is your way of giving me the brush-off, I’d prefer you just say it outright.” 

Jesse shakes his head. “No, it’s not. I… you have no idea how much I’d like us to have some sort of shot here, but it just isn’t realistic. You’ll be busy, I’ll be busy trying to juggle work and my first production, and it’d be hard enough adding a new relationship to that if you were here, let alone nearly 6,000 miles away.” 

Andrew’s face crumples and with it do bits of Jesse’s heart. He presses their foreheads together. “I hate the thought of never seeing you again,” he whispers. 

A fist clenches in Jesse’s chest. “I feel the same way,” he whispers back. “But trust me, you’d resent me sooner rather than later.” 

“I wouldn’t—”

Jesse cuts him off. “And I’d rather us just remember each other this way.” 

“Bloody hell, it’s my own very _Before Sunrise_. You even have the same name as Ethan Hawke.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.’ 

Andrew sighs. “I know you don’t. If you did I might think I had a chance at arguing this.” 

Jesse’s eyes sting and he blinks rapidly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hush.” Andrew covers Jesse’s lips with his fingertips. “Just kiss me.” 

Jesse does.  
__________________________

They kiss forever, or that’s what it feels like, rolling around on Andrew’s air mattress; the firmness is definitely giving way by now. At some point they lose their shirts and then their pants. Andrew is beneath him and the overhead light is on, as that’s all there is. They’re beneath the cracked open window and Jesse can hear the quiet street noise, see the lights from outside reflected in the glass. 

He looks down at Andrew, who is kissing along his collarbone and then dipping lower to his nipples. Jesse wants to ask him to turn off the light, especially when Andrew’s hand slips below Jesse’s boxers to grab a handful of his ass, but he also desperately wants to see him fully. 

He ducks down, sucks at Andrew’s neck. Andrew arches upward, his nails biting into Jesse’s cheeks.

“What— oh hell, how do you like it?” 

“Like what?” Jesse mumbles, positive he’s leaving a pretty big hickey. 

Andrew rolls their hips together again. “Sex.” 

“Uh, this is good.” 

Andrew giggles, tugs at Jesse’s earlobe with his teeth. “I mean, anal sex. If you do that.” 

Jesse’s lips stutter to a stop on Andrew’s jaw. “Yes, uh. Either. I’m—I like it either way.” 

“Good, because although I know I’ll regret it on the long flight,” Andrew gasps into Jesse’s skin, licking down around his nipple, “I really, really want you to fuck me.” 

Jesse’s dick twitches and Andrew giggles, pressing his own dick harder against it, making Jesse whimper. “Well, someone likes that idea.” 

“You’re trying to murder me,” Jesse groans, leaving wet kisses all over Andrew’s throat. 

“Never,” Andrew says solemnly. 

Jesse shivers all over. He pulls back and shifts down so they are eye level. “I haven’t got anything.” 

Andrew bites his lips. “I do. Picked some up while in Sainsbury’s earlier and paid before you could see. Sorry to be sneaky but I didn’t want you to think me presumptuous.” 

“Presume all you want.” 

They go back to kissing, their hips a slow grind, like there’s no longer a rush now that there’s a plan. 

Jesse gets Andrew’s underwear off, spreads him out and just takes his time, kissing every inch of skin, trying not to think about how this first time is also the last time. He sucks Andrew slowly, lazy. Andrew pulls at Jesse’s hair and mutters in French, like he knows Jesse had been thinking about it earlier. 

He pushes Jesse off, climbs on top of him, and pants down at him. “Can, I… can I?” He looks down at his own dick and then back at Jesse’s mouth. 

“Fuck, um. Yeah. C’mere.” 

Andrew groans and scoots up, kneeling over Jesse’s chest and guiding his dick between his lips. Jesse takes in as much as he can at this angle, Andrew’s eyes on him the whole time, his fingers grazing along Jesse’s scalp. 

He moans, low and broken and then pulls off. He kisses his way down Jesse’s body, bypassing his dick to suck at his balls, before kissing back up and taking Jesse halfway down his throat. 

Jesse lets out a short cry, planting his feet on the mattress and carding his fingers through Andrew’s hair. He starts saying nonsense in Polish and it has the intended effect. Andrew pulls off, laughing and gasping. 

“You wanker.” 

“Evidently.” 

Andrew laughs again and licks at Jesse’s stomach and up his sternum. He kisses Jesse’s mouth when he gets there. “Back in a jiff, yeah?” 

Jesse nods dumbly, watches Andrew climb over and off the bed, admiring his ass as he digs around in his backpack. 

He holds up a tube of lube and a sleeve of condoms, tossing them next to Jesse before straddling him again. They kiss, long and sweet, Andrew’s tongue tangling with his, his mouth still tasting like beer and faintly of the cigarette he hand on the way to the pub. 

The prep part has always felt like a lot of pressure to Jesse. His hands are shaking as he coats them with lube; Andrew notices and grabs them. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, before spreading his legs, putting the second pillow under his ass and guiding Jesse there. 

Jesse breathes out and rubs along his hole, reveling in the way Andrew’s eyes flutter shut. He works one finger inside, then two, until Andrew is pushing down everytime Jesse thrusts forward. 

“Now. Please, baby.” 

Jesse’s heart beats triple time. Andrew has sweat gathered along his forehead and around his temple, his hair is in disarray, and his pupils are wide. Jesse takes a mental picture, then withdraws his hand slowly. 

Andrew reaches up blindly, grabbing Jesse around the neck and tugging him down to his lips. “This way, yeah? Wanna see you.” 

“Yes,” Jesse gasps, sucking on Andrew’s bottom lip. 

“C’mon,” groans Andrew, hiking his leg around Jesse’s waist. 

It takes Jesse three tries to get the condom on and he’s still half convinced he’s fucked it up. Andrew drags his hand down Jesse’s cock, fisting it once, twice. “You’re good,” he declares, smiling too sweet for someone so debauched. 

Then he’s guiding Jesse inside like he did his fingers; it feels so intimate, in every aspect.

Jesse’s knees brush along Andrew’s inner thighs as he pushes inside. “Oh, fuck.” 

Andrew’s so hot, so tight, and it’s been _so_ long since Jesse’s felt anything like this. 

“Yes,” Andrew shifts his legs, pulls them up around Jesse's hips, causing Jesse to slide a little deeper. “Fuck, you feel so good.” 

Jesse bites his lip, blinks sweat out of his eyes. 

He pushes all the way in and Andrew gasps, wrapping his arms around Jesse’s neck and pulling him in for a slow, heated kiss. 

“Andrew.” The name is a broken moan on Jesse’s lips, muffled by Andrew’s own mouth. 

Andrew’s hands slip over his shoulders and down his back. “Fuck me, Jess.” 

Jesse moans into Andrew’s mouth, fucking his tongue inside just as his hips begin to move. Andrew claws at Jesse’s back and rises to meet him. Jesse pulls out slow then presses back in hard, breaking away again to breathe. 

“There,” Andrew gasps when Jesse angles back inside. “Right there, oh. Oh.” 

“You’re so,” Jesse starts, but then loses the thread as Andrew clenches around him. “Oh, _shit_.” 

Andrew laughs breathlessly and Jesse joins him, smiling against his neck, kissing his skin, loving the way the soft stubble there scratches at his lips. 

Andrew’s hands shift to Jesse’s ass, pulling him impossibly closer. He feels Andrew’s dick, hot and wet against his stomach, the friction delicious. Jesse’s determined to keep up the angle, even as his thrusts grow erratic. “Is that—how’s that?” he asks, gasping as he pushes in as deep as he can go, hips moving shallowly. 

“Bon. Oui. Mon dieu, Jesse, chéri." 

Jesse’s cheeks flame hot. He kisses and licks at Andrew’s salty skin. Andrew reaches between them and his knuckles graze Jesse’s belly as he strokes his own cock.

“I can—”

“Shh,” Andrew whispers, kissing behind Jesse’s ear. “Just keep fucking me.” 

Jesse groans. 

“You feel so good, baby. Wanna come with you inside me.” 

Of course Andrew is a dirty talker, and not even in a way that Jesse finds more funny than sexy. It's like he was genetically designed to be Jesse’s undoing. 

Jesse’s overly aware of the sounds they’re making; the slap of his balls against Andrew’s ass, the squeak of the mattress, the thap-thap of Andrew’s palm on his dick. 

Andrew’s legs drop a bit, and Jesse can feel his body tense and strain. 

“I’m. Jesse, I’m gonna come.” 

“Yes,” Jesse moans, just as Andrew tightens around his dick again, making Jesse’s rhythm falter. 

“Oh, oh god.” Jesse buries his face in Andrew’s neck, lets his orgasm wash over him like it was his own. He’s so close, himself, he can almost taste it. 

“Fuck,” Andrew gasps, his legs falling wide on either side of Jesse’s thighs. Then he’s pushing Jesse up and over. “Lemme ride you?” 

Jesse’s brain shorts out and he lets himself be moved and turned like a rag doll. Somehow Andrew keeps them connected because he’s some sort of sex magician. Then Jesse can do nothing but lie back and watch Andrew move above him, his dick still half hard and curved against his thigh. 

Andrew barely lifts himself up, just circles his hips. Jesse is so deep inside him he can barely breathe. He comes with Andrew’s hands on his chest and his tongue in his mouth, as Jesse smooths his palms up and down Andrew’s back. His embarrassingly loud moans are largely swallowed by Andrew’s mouth. 

“Fuck me,” Jesse gasps when they part. 

“I think I just did,” Andrew giggles. “In a sense.” 

Jesse’s too wrung out to laugh; he pulls Andrew to his chest and attempts to relearn breathing. Andrew stays there, laving at Jesse’s skin until Jesse goes fully soft and slips out of him. 

Andrew grabs for the condom and strips it off Jesse efficiently before tying it. He groans as he gets up and walks to the bathroom. 

“I’m flushing it, I don’t care if it fucks up the plumbing,” Andrew calls. 

Jesse stretches his arms over his head. “You rebel, you.” 

Andrew returns with some toilet paper, wiping off his stomach and then doing the same for Jesse. Then he’s up again. 

Jesse groans. “You’re moving too much.” 

“Sorry,” Andrew laughs. He returns with a lighter and… 

“Is that a joint?” 

Andrew palms at the back of his head and sits cross legged beside Jesse. “Yeah, just remembered I still had it. You mind?” 

Jesse shakes his head. He has before but it's been a while.

“Cheers,” Andrew says before lighting it and taking a hit. “You want?” 

“Sure.” 

Jesse expects him to pass the joint but instead Andrew takes another hit and then beckons Jeese close with his finger. 

He blows the smoke into Jesse’s mouth. Jesse gasps, inhales, and then lets Andrew’s tongue sweep across his teeth. He feels lightheaded when Andrew pulls back. 

“Okay?” he whispers. 

“Yeah.” 

Andrew smiles lazily and kisses him again. They share the joint, kissing between hits, their free hands locked together on Jesse’s hip. 

Jesse doesn’t want to ask but he feels he has to. “What time is your flight?” 

“Three. I should probably be there for noon.” 

Jesse nods, biting his lip. “I could, uh, ride with you.” 

Andrew’s lips part. “You—are you sure?” 

Jesse shrugs. “It’s a Sunday. I’ve got nowhere else to be.” 

“Okay.” Andrew smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. He squeezes Jesse’s hand. “This is shit.” 

“Yup.” 

“Should probably sleep.”

“Kay.” 

Andrew gets up again, flicking the remainder of the joint into the sink and killing the light. They slide under the thin sheet together, still naked. Meeting in the middle they kiss, tangling their legs together. 

Jesse realizes this’ll be the second night he hasn’t brushed his teeth, but he can’t care. Not with Andrew wrapping wirey but strong arms around Jesse’s waist and kissing his lips, his throat, his chest. 

Andrew pulls back and Jesse can just make out his features through the outside lights. “What was the first thing you noticed about me? At the club?” 

“Your smile,” Jesse says without pause. “I looked up and you smiled at me, and I felt completely at ease.” 

“That’s lovely,” Andrew replies quietly, kissing the tip of Jesse’s nose. 

“And what about you?” Jesse’s not sure he actually wants to know. 

“Your vulnerability.” 

“Oh, great.” 

“It was,” Andrew insists, taking hold of Jesse’s hands and bringing them up against his chest. “There’s something so open about you, so raw and different than anyone else in that place.”

Andrew pauses. “I’m just attracted to vulnerability. Some people see it as weakness or something, but I never have. I find it so sexy when someone shows it and I thought to myself, please let me have a go at chatting with this creature.” 

Jesse has to kiss him, biting at Andrew’s mouth. 

“I’m glad you talked to me.” 

“As am I.” 

They search each other’s eyes in the near darkness. 

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” Andrew asks. 

Jesse’s pulse thunders and he remembers Carey’s words from the bar. “I— I think I’m too neurotic to truly believe in it.”

Andrew laughs. 

Jesse pauses before adding, “Carey seemed to suggest you do, though.” 

“That cunt,” Andrew laughs fondly. “Knew she’d said something incriminating. I do, I believe in love at first sight, but I also believe you’d love anyone if you knew their story and I think the notion of romantic love it’s seriously misguided and it creates a lot of problems in our modern world. We need to re-evaluate this idea that we have of the nuclear family and 2.4 children and that it’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve and I believe it’s possible to be in love with ourselves all the time and everyone around us.”

Jesse blinks. “I…do you always go into existential rambles while stoned?”

“Oh, absolutely. Sometimes I also serenade people under windows, but nothing as eloquent as a _Say Anything..._ situation” 

Jesse barks out a laugh. “You’re completely mad,” he says in an exaggerated British accent. “And I once again have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Then they’re both dissolving into fits of laughter; Jesse is perhaps more high than he realized. They kiss, slow and dreamy and without intent, until Andrew pulls away to yawn. “Sleep, Jess,” he whispers, kissing his jaw. 

He combs his fingers through Andrew’s hair. “I like it when you call me that.” 

“Good.” He can hear the smile in Andrew’s voice and drifts off with one of his own.  
__________________________________

Jesse sleeps better than he has in a while, even with someone all up in his space. Or maybe because of it. Andrew is kissing the back of his neck. Jesse sighs and blinks his eyes awake. 

“Time is it?” 

“Nine.”

Jesse can feel the heaviness in the air around them and sighs again. 

“I really need to brush my teeth.” 

Andrew lets him up, watching sleepily as Jesse moves to his bag to grab his toothbrush and a bottle of water. Jesse passes him on the way the way to the bathroom, takes in the pillow creases on his face and how his hair is half-matted; he still manages to look like Jesse’s personal wet dream. 

Jesse’s just finished spitting toothpaste down the drain when arms slip around his chest. He meets Andrew’s gaze in the mirror, watches as Andrew kisses his neck. “Shower with me?” 

Nothing has changed since yesterday to make him more comfortable with that prospect, but Jesse also finds he doesn’t want to say no. 

Andrew brushes his own teeth while Jesse grabs the towels and regulates the water. Once under the spray things feel fraught again, the weight of reality crushing him. 

“Don’t think,” Andrew says, soaping up Jesse’s chest, running his fingers through the light hair there. Jesse has never had the luxury of not thinking, so instead he kisses Andrew. They wash each other lazily, Jesse gasping a little when Andrew runs the washcloth up between his cheeks, then down along the curve of his inner thigh. 

Once they’re clean Andrew spins Jesse around, dick slotting heavy along the cleft of his ass. “This okay?” he murmurs against the back of Jesse’s neck. 

Jesse moans quietly, leaning back against Andrew’s chest. He tilts his head back. “Yes.” 

They kiss again, lips meeting with purpose. Jesse arches back further and the head of Andrew’s cock nudges against his hole. Jesse’s gasping by the time Andrew pulls away. His mouth is hot on Jesse’s jaw, his neck, the top of his spine. It moves lower, and lower still, until Andrew has folded to his knees and Jesse is blinking water out of his suddenly wide eyes, his hands braced on the title. 

“Oh,” he exclaims at the first cautious swipe of Andrew’s tongue between his cheeks. 

“Okay?” 

“Fuck, yes.” 

Andrew’s laughter vibrates against his skin and then he’s pulling Jesse’s cheeks apart and licking at him wantonly. Jesse gasps and squeezes his eyes shut. He zeros in on the feeling of Andrew’s tongue, thick and broad, pushing past the ring of muscle and fucking into him quick, little thrusts. 

“Fuck, Andrew.” 

Andrew hums against him, moving his hands to spread Jesse’s legs further so he can dip even lower, sucking at his balls and then licking his way back up, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses all over his ass before finding his hole again. 

It’s filthy and obscene, despite their current setting. Jesse breathes raggedly, loving how into this Andrew is and never wanting it to end. 

He makes Jesse come a few minutes later, with his hand on Jesse’s cock and his tongue in his ass. Jesse’s still weak in the knees when Andrew rises to his feet. He fits himself tight along Jesse’s body, his dick sliding wet and hard between Jesse’s slicked up cheeks. 

“So hot. God, baby, wanna come all over you.” 

“Please,” Jesse gasps and then Andrew is sucking at his neck and thrusting against his ass. He lets out the sexiest cry Jesse’s ever heard before coming against the small of his back. 

They’re both trembling, touching everywhere they can reach with shaky hands before rinsing clean again and turning off the water. Andrew kisses Jesse soft and shallow before brushing his teeth again, like he knows Jesse has hang ups about stuff like that. 

They towel off together and don’t say much as they dress. Then they’re heading off for a quick breakfast after Andrew gathers his backpack and a rolling suitcase. 

There are quite a few rail and subway transfers to Heathrow from where they are, but Andrew says he prefers it to taxis and Jesse is just happy to have as much time with him as possible. They hold hands the entire time, Jesse trying and failing to make conversation. So they make out a bit instead. Jesse hates it when couples do that on public transportation, but he’s not willing to spend his last bit of time with Andrew _not_ kissing him, so he’ll make an exception. 

Jesse’s stomach is in knots as they make the last tube transfer before Heathrow, his knee bouncing as he taps his foot against the floor. 

Andrew squeezes his hand. “Tell me something, Jess.” 

Jesse already misses Andrew asking him that. 

So Jesse talks a little more about his play, because he knows how to ramble about that at least. 

“It’s going to be brilliant,” Andrew says when he finishes. “You’re amazing.” 

Jesse shakes his head, throat tight. Why the fuck did he find this only to not be able to have it? 

Andrew rests his head on Jesse’s shoulder, a familiar weight by this point, and Jesse strokes his hair. 

“You know, in _Before Sunrise_ they decide to meet on a train platform six months later, without exchanging contact information.” 

“That doesn’t sound very practical,” Jesse murmurs, still stroking his hair. 

“No,” Andrew agrees, voice sad. 

Jesse distracts him by talking about when Terminal 5 opened here a few months and how disastrous it was. 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Andrew laughs. 

“No, but at least you can go in with low expectations.” 

Andrew laughs again, a low rumble against his shoulder. That’s all Jesse was aiming for. 

Before he knows it they’re exiting the train and Andrew is standing off to the side of the escalators that will take him away from here, from Jesse. 

Andrew’s eyes are shining as he turns to Jesse. He drops his bags to the floor and surges in to hug Jesse hard. “I’m so, so happy to have met you.” 

Jesse’s own eyes prickle. He holds on tight, crushing Andrew to him. “Me too.” 

Andrew pulls back and fits their mouths together, licking inside and moaning desperately against Jesse’s lips. “I’ll miss you so much,” he whispers when they break apart. “I—” 

Jesse kisses him again, frantic. His hands scramble at Andrew’s back, his shoulders, committing his taste and shape to memory. 

“Thank you,” Jesse says, voice cracking as they pull apart again. 

Andrew swipes away tears. “For what?” 

Jesse shrugs. “Being you.” 

Andrew stiffles a sob with the back of his hand and nods, jerkily. “Bye, Jesse,” Then he’s turning, picking up his bags, and walking up the escalator. 

Jesse can’t watch him go so he doesn’t, turns and starts walking— anywhere else. He only gets about fifty feet away when he hears, “Oh fuck this shit,” close behind him, before being turned around by his shoulder. 

He blinks at Andrew. 

“See, the thing is, your plan is bloody stupid.” 

“Andrew.” Jesse’s still staring uncomprehendingly. “You’re going to miss your plane.” 

“No, I won’t. Despite how much I’d like to _Before Sunset_ this, I still have every intention of leaving.” 

“You keep talking about sunsets and sunrises and I still have no idea what you mean.” 

Andrew laughs, his eyes still a bit glazed. “I know you don’t. And I love that. I love that I can make a reference about a movie or band I like and you’ll look at me like I’m from another planet. I love that I can tell you things you don’t care about and that you can do the same. I don’t want to give that up. I want to convince you to watch one of my movies and listen to how much you hate it. I want to listen to your musicals on vinyl. I want more than a weekend, Jesse.” 

Jesse shakes his head. ‘It won’t work. Andrew. You know it won’t.” 

Andrew steps in closer, dropping his bags at his feet once again while people weave around him. 

“No, I don’t know that. What I know is I’ve never felt this way before. I’m pretty sure I’ve been half in love with you since I met you and that’s not just my love at first sight mentality talking. I want to know what it’d be like if I let myself fall for you the way I know I could.” 

Jesse bites his lip. “Carey said you tend to do that, though, so what makes this so different?” 

Andrew cups Jesse’s cheek with his hand. “You, just you. Yes, I feel things intensely pretty much all the time. And I know I can be a lot and I know I’ll probably scare you off at one point if I haven’t already. But I also know you make me want to be loved in return. Please say you’ll just give us a try.” 

Jesse’s thoughts are jumbled and his hands are shaking. “It’s so far. We’ll never see each other.”

“I’ll come to visit my folks, you’ll come to New Jersey. Planes exist, Jesse. We can meet in New York and when we can’t there’s this brilliant thing called the internet and Skype. We can video call. We've got our phones, we’ve got messaging. I even plan to get one of those fancy new IPhones.” 

Jesse laughs, stomach leaping. “Such a hipster.” 

Andrew’s fingers glide down to his mouth, brushing over his lips. “Say you’ll give me your mobile, Jesse.” He takes his own phone out of his pocket and looks at Jesse with pleading eyes. 

Jesse reaches for the phone with shaky fingers and creates a contact before typing in his number. Andrew’s smiling from ear to ear when Jesse looks up. 

“Now promise me you’ll message me back when I tell you I’ve landed safely.” 

Jesse bites at his lower lip and studies Andrew’s face. 

(Five years from now, they’ll be at a party. More specifically, it will be the afterparty to Jesse’s opening night Off-Broadway. Andrew’s arm will be draped casually around Jesse’s shoulder as he details how a recent audition went, his free hand waving animatedly. Andrew will have just finished his own Off-Broadway turn in Death of a Salesman. He still won’t have starred in one of Jesse’s plays, insisting he needs to prove himself more, but promises that one day he will. That he can’t wait. 

Jesse will nod politely at the praise someone to his left is bestowing, while also fidgeting. Andrew will grab his twitching fingers and raise Jesse’s hand to his lips, all without breaking his own conversation, like he’d been half-listening to Jesse’s interaction this whole time. 

The woman Andrew is talking to will pause mid-sentence and smile. “How did you two meet, then?” 

Jesse, used to this question by this point, will reply as he always does. “We spent a weekend together in England, right before he moved to America, that turned into a five year relationship.” 

It will be the answer in its most simplistic and intriguing form, revealing just enough but not too much. It’s the movie script ending people crave, the ones that leave out all the messy, realistic parts. Jesse will not divulge the years of long distance, the insecurities. He won’t talk about visiting Andrew in L.A. and Andrew coming to New Jersey for Hanukkah. 

He won’t mention the mix CD he got in the mail two months into their long-distance dating, filled with some of Andrew’s favorite songs, along with a portable CD player and a note that said, _I love these things and want to share them with you, but it’s okay if you don’t <3_. He won’t reveal the second CD he got on their six month anniversary, the theme clearly being love, or the slip of paper tucked beneath the tracklist that said, _I’m utterly and completely in love with you and I’ve waited six months to tell you so so you didn’t think I was mad_. 

He will leave out how Andrew lasted just two years in L.A. before realizing Hollywood and all that it entails wasn’t actually where he wanted to be. And how Jesse joined him in New York when his first production opened there, with Andrew now doing theater on the regular. 

Instead, he will just squeeze Andrew’s hand once more, and smile back helplessly when Andrew beams at him.)

But that is later. Now, Andrew is asking Jesse to text him back, asking him to give this—them—a try. Asking him to take a chance on the unknown. 

“Promise me, Jess?” Andrew whispers, tipping his forehead to rest against Jesse’s. 

Jesse promises. 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the love of first sight stuff is a [verbatim quote](https://mikes-wheelers.tumblr.com/post/611043917416251392). Because Andrew Garfield is not real. 
> 
> Jesse's Napoleon Dynamite story is that of legend. I couldn't not include it. 
> 
> The first mix Andrew sends Jesse is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/147dT6vrpO8ecIzKrXD54m?si=Q93hG_-dSCuZgz2npYhj_A)  
> The second mix Andrew sends Jesse is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3SJcBliI5TFVHIAazI8MYV?si=YaLggY2bQb-6mr4gTuixsA)
> 
> If you're craving more Andrew/Jesse, check out the supercut of AGarfield pining I made [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbfzW7MNZag).
> 
> (I wrote this story a few months ago and posting it now is having me itching to write more. So if you’ve got any prompt requests, please feel free to drop a line.)


End file.
